No Matter What
by Come Lady Death
Summary: Written for LJ's otl fest, celebrating the great Doctor Elizabeth Weir. Prompt 165: Elizabeth Weir/Cameron Mitchell - he likes watching her sleep.


One of the top ten things Elizabeth Weir hides under her bed, never to show another human being, is a photo of herself about ten years ago. On a trip with some friends, someone had taken a picture of her while she slept in the bus. It was incredibly unattractive and she made the person who took the horrible thing pay dearly for it. Elizabeth hated the way she looked when she was asleep and worked hard to make sure no one saw her that way.

So it was incredibly disconcerting for her to wake up and find her lover propped up on his elbow, watching her sleep. Weir rolled over and hid her face in the pillow. "Cameron, please don't do that. I hate it when you watch me sleep."

"I love watching you sleep," he protested.

"Well, I don't!"

Cameron Mitchell reached over and pulled on her elbow. "Why's that?" he asked in his innocent little boy voice. The voice that never failed to make her smile, even when she was mad at him. "Come on, El, why?"

"I also hate it when you call me El," she reminded him as she sat up. He grinned at her cheekily.

"Why do you think I do it?" He kissed her lightly, then rubbed noses with her, making her laugh. "Come on, spill. Why don't you like people watching you sleep?" Weir fell silent for a long while. Cam sighed. This was going to be a fight. He leaned back against the headboard and maneuvered her until she was leaning back against his chest. Mitchell wrapped his arms around her and settled his chin on her shoulder. "Is it a vulnerability thing?" he guessed. "Jackson's like that."

"No, that's not it," she told him slowly, grudgingly. "It's just..."

"What?"

"I look ugly when I'm asleep," she finally admitted quietly.

Mitchell blinked in surprise. Of all the reasons she could have given, that was the most obvious and the least expected. "Elizabeth, you're beautiful. How could you think you're ugly?"

"Hey, only when I'm asleep," she returned, sounding slightly miffed. "My face goes slack, my mouth falls open and the things I say in my sleep..." She shivered and he hugged her tighter.

"I love when you talk in your sleep," he told her. "Makes my day. Even on the worst day _ever_, I can still crack a smile thinking of you rambling about turkey basters in Turkish and complaining that the purple cats were eating your slippers." Cam laughed at that, and after a minute, she did too.

"Okay, that was funny," she admitted. "But what about the other things? How do you pull off looking just as wonderful asleep as you do awake?"

Elizabeth could feel his eyes rolling behind her. "I do not."

"Cameron, you do."

"So do you, 'Lizabeth."

"I do not," she muttered sullenly. "I hate the way I look when I sleep. I hate it."

Cameron chuckled into her hair. "So you drool on the pillow." Elizabeth flinched at that and he felt a little guilty for saying it. "Everybody does, Elizabeth. It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"It is for me," she insisted. Cameron was quiet for a little while, trying to think of something to say to make it better.

"Elizabeth," he ventured finally. "I don't care what you look like when you're asleep. I don't even notice the... those things you mentioned. All I see is my girl, asleep, looking like an angel. Not worrying, not planning. Just dreaming."

"That's sweet," Weir murmured. Cam could tell she didn't believe him. He kissed her neck and decided it was too early in the morning to argue the point.

"True. Every word." He could feel her smile and a matching smile crossed his face. "Want to get up?"

"No," Elizabeth said, sliding out of his arms. "I'm going back to sleep. Don't watch," she cautioned him sternly. "You may think I look like an angel, but don't." Mitchell tucked the covers back over her shoulders and kissed her cheek.

"I have to go on duty, anyway." He left her to sleep and walked into the bathroom to change into his uniform. The change only took ten minutes, so he had another five to kill. He knew the perfect way to spend them. Cameron Mitchell snuck out to the bedroom and watched his angel sleep before going out.

An hour later, Elizabeth Weir woke up slowly. She stretched like a cat and her arm bumped something off the pillow and onto the floor. She reached over the side of the bed and felt around until she came up with a note. She squinted at the words on the little pink Post-It and a smile spread over her face. "Cameron Mitchell, you're a fool," she laughed, getting out of bed to start her day. But she put the note in her journal all the same.

_You're beautiful no matter what._


End file.
